Gnoming Me, Gnoming You
by janiejanine
Summary: A tale Beyond Belief from the Thrilling Adventure Hour, in which Frank and Sadie encounter the most frightening creature of all: an unexpected houseguest.


High above Manhattan, in the penthouse of the famed Plaza Hotel, Sadie Doyle was making herself a drink.

"Frank, darling, have you seen the ice tongs?" she called to the figure crouched behind the sofa.

"I can't say I have. Shouldn't they be behind the bar? The minibar, I mean, not the regular-sized bar. The minibar in the den, to be specific." Frank gestured vaguely off to the side, his attention focused on the carpet.

"No," said Sadie. "They seem to have gone missing. I can't find the corkscrew, either. In fact, a suspicious number of shiny objects are no longer where they should be." Her brow furrowed. Something like this usually meant _hoarding_ , and hoarding usually meant _supernatural_.

"Hmmm." Frank rose and waved her over. "What do these look like to you?" he asked, pointing at the floor.

Sadie squinted. "Are those...footprints?"

" _Wet_ footprints."

"They're tiny. What made them? Some miniscule monster, perhaps?"

Frank leaned closer to the carpet and sniffed. "Sadie, my love," he said with alarm, "to the second-largest liquor cabinet!"

Sadie sprinted-or as close as she ever came to sprinting-into the bedroom, pulling up short before the door of the walk-in liquor closet. The floor was covered with shards of glass and wood, all glistening with juniper-scented liquid.

She gasped. "Frank! It was in our gin! All that lovely booze is spilled _everywhere_."

"Quick, Sadie, get a straw!"

"There's no time, Frank!" She stepped carefully over the glass and reached into the closet, groping in the dark until she touched something that was definitely _not_ a bottle. She closed her hand around it and yanked.

Dangling from her fist was a small, brown creature. It looked a bit like a coconut and a bit like an old shoe, and it flailed its stubby arms so wildly she nearly dropped it.

"What are you?" she asked. She set it down on the floor and looked it over. "Are you a dwarf? An imp? A goblin? An elf? A leprechaun? No, you haven't tried to eat our souls. A brownie? A pixie? A-"

The creature, whose expression had grown increasingly pained, interrupted. "I'm a gnome," it said.

"A gnome? Gnome. Oh, yes! We've seen your kind before. Don't you remember, Frank, the Hollands had some on their lawn. With little hats."

"I only remember the cocktails, and thus I have no memory of that evening whatsoever," said Frank.

"They were rather sweet. And rather disturbing. But this gnome is _not wearing a hat_. Nor has it a beard."

The creature made a face like an indignant potato and spoke, its voice a harsh rasp. "You think I'm a garden gnome? Those guys are so far down the chain...look, lady, I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here. I fell asleep in that crate and when I woke up, I was trapped in the cabinet."

"Why don't you go back to your gnome home?" asked Sadie. She giggled. " _Gnome home_."

"What do you think I was trying to do? This place is locked up tighter than a nun's underpants."

"How tight is that?" Frank asked. "Because I knew a few nuns..."

The gnome made an impatient gesture. "All you have to do is put me back in the dirt, okay? Then I'll be out of your hair, and you can go back to doing...whatever it is you do."

"Exactly how much dirt do you need?"

"Not much. All dirt is connected, you know. We use it to travel."

"Really? How?" asked Frank, intrigued.

"No idea. Magic, probably. Maybe wormholes. Get it? Wormholes?" It trailed off, chuckling, until it noticed the impatient faces of its audience. "Really? Nothing? Never mind. Anyway, you know the subway? It's like that. Go in at the 58th Street vacant lot, change over at the pocket park, come out at the 6th Avenue flowerpot. Easy."

"Flowerpots," Sadie murmured. "We've seen those, haven't we? On the balconies?"

"You're right!" Frank said. He turned back to the gnome. "Sorry, little fella, but we can't help you."

"What's the problem?" it asked.

"There's dirt outside, but it's... _outside_."

"You know there's a window right there, right?"

Sadie blanched. "We do _not_ open the window."

"Why?"

Frank and Sadie shared a look of horror. " _Bees_ ," they said together.

"Stingy little monsters with neither remorse nor pity," said Frank.

"They come in with their bright colors and soft fuzzy bellies, and then they turn around and stick you. A bee is an evil creature dressed in a fur coat of lies, and I will _not_ have one in this apartment," said Sadie.

"Fine," said the gnome. "You can take a chance on that, or you can just keep me around forever. That would be fun. We'll have long, cozy chats around the dinner table. Of course, you'll have to empty out that cabinet so I can have a place to sleep..."

"Window it is," Frank said. He took a deep breath, braced himself, and threw open the sash. Sunshine streamed in, bringing with it a warm, fragrant breeze.

Sadie's nose wrinkled. "What is that smell?"

"I believe it's... _fresh air_ ," said Frank.

"Eeugh," said Sadie.

She wrapped both hands around the gnome's middle, lifted it to the window, and heaved. It hung suspended in the hair for a moment, arms and legs paddling helplessly, then dropped, its shouted "HEY!" lingering in the soft afternoon air. A few seconds later, there came the muffled _thud_ of several pounds of gnome hitting a downstairs window box packed with earth.

"You always did have excellent aim," Frank said.

"Thank you," Sadie replied modestly.

"Well, Sadie love," said Frank, "it just goes to show you. We've faced ghosts, demons, and nightmare creatures from the nether realms, but our real worst fear is _houseguests_."

"You're so right, Frank darling," said Sadie. "I want no one else but you. And this bottle."

"And _these_ bottles."

"Of course. Hand me two or three of those, would you?"

"Anything for you," said Frank. Their glasses met with a _clink_.


End file.
